Unfair
by spencelvania
Summary: He was panting and his face was very, very red and he was touching you in too many places at once with his whole body. You now squirm under him and a low growl vibrates and fills the empty air, thrumming out his lips dangerously. His hands, his face is everywhere, looking at you from every direction at once, his lip is curling, and you can just barely see his sharp teeth.
1. Chapter 1

_Unfair_- by Spencelvania

(There is no fucking feasible way I own Gorillaz. And, erm. Be gentle with my first fic guys.)

You're being crushed at the moment. Everything about the bloke who really is, physically flattening you to the worn-out couch here and now, is crushing. He's always so rough with his words, unflattering, rude and malicious little quips that make everyone around him frown even as his dry laugh reverberates around them; another little mocking thing he can do, laughing at other's expenses. His untasteful, disgusting habits leave others cringing in his presence. And on top of it, he is completely insufferably stubborn. He would never listen, or give one good goddamn fuck what anyone else wanted, he would only do as he saw perfectly fit. Yes, Murdoc Niccals was truly the most ostentatious being on earth.

Even so, the stupid bloke had managed to charm his way into the hearts of an entire fanbase consisting of thousands around the world, not to mention three really very random other people. There's no way he ever could have expected that his family would consist of a small eleven year old Asian girl, a massive(and possessed) black drummer, and... you. You're all shades of fucked up; even through your accident-addled brain you have managed to surmise this.

You can also figure out that family is _not _supposed to crush you into the couch unexpectedly no matter _how _hammered they claim to be. And you lost your page in the book you had been trying to read. At first, you didn't really react, you were just sort of annoyed about your book and that your personal space was being so rudely invaded. But when Murdoc literally climbed on top of you, breathing too-hot alcohol-smelling breath onto your face and straddling you to the creaking springs, you couldn't really ignore him and you started to feel very uncomfortable indeed. He was panting and his face was very, very red and he was touching you in too many places at once with his whole body. You now squirm under him and a low growl vibrates and fills the empty air, thrumming out his lips dangerously. His hands, his face is everywhere, looking at you from every direction at once, his lip is curling, and you can just barely see his sharp teeth. He shifts a bit, and stupidly brushes his fingers, too rough, over your chest. Light tints of a dull, ruddy orange are being painted into your world, and you blink slowly. He leans forwards now and you wince as his crotch presses into yours so deliciously.

"Listen 'ere, Tuss. You're going to do something for me toni-night, okay? An-and I don't want you to ye-yell or shout or make any noise at all, you hear me? If you make even a sqe-queak, I'll be-beat the livin' tar out of your sorry carcass... " He's a hiccuping, stuttering, muttering mess and so _unsure_ of himself, you can barely make his words out.

And you're not exactly how to respond, so you just sort of nod your head in this idiotic small motion and he seems to relax a bit though you're still confused and frightened and maybe a little aroused.

Again, he's crushing you, his weight, his threat, his scent, his anger. He's so _irritated_ right now. Is he in pain? Why is he always so mad all the time? You hope it's not you. Even though it's sick, you've probably just wanted his recognition and praise all along. If you want to make him happy, you suppose this is a good opportunity to start.

"Wh-what's wrong, D-" He asks sardonically, "-are you afraid to look me in the eye?" You realize then that you've been looking down at nothing in particular really, gnawing your bottom lip between your teeth.

You're not really sure how to respond to that so you just sort of reach up and touch his face in a small motion as if giving your approval. Just as you thought he would, he flinches away, and instantly looks like he hates himself for reacting in such a pitiful way. You suppose it works differently being touched than touching with him. He grabs your hand and you appreciate the roughness of his skin against yours.

"Now, now. Let me do the w-work. A fuckin' faceache can't orchestrate himself right anyways, you'd just screw it all up. " You frown, but shrug in a "whatever" kind of way. For a second, it's awkward when he rushes in and nudges the parting between your legs with his knee. But this has you gasping, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you at that moment. He's pressing tightly with his leg in a wonderful way and very soon you two are going at it, kissing sloppily like it's your first time again, but it's a definite part of the appeal.

Birds aren't like Murdoc, you find; he's such a rough wreck of a man you feel like you're comforting him instead of foreplaying. Not to say that it doesn't feel good. He's caressing your stupid, unproportional body underneath your sweater and the presses of his large thumbs against the bundles of nerves in your nipples is tortuously amazing. He starts to pull your top off, but you catch his wrist.

"It's cold. Please leave i-it on."

"Whatever, I don't give a damn, I guess." He kisses you again, and his entire body is pressed flush to yours. You hum appreciatively; you feel pretty good right now. He pulls back and looks at you, while moving his hips back and forth in small motions, and you bite your lip.

"Why'd you have to be so fuckin' pretty, Tuss?" He grins stupidly at this, and his tongue begins to slide out in this weird swaying motion. You squirm at this because its very uncomfortable of him to tell you so. Not that you aren't a little bit smug. No one's ever told you that before, and you like how it feels in your chest to know that someone thinks that of you. By now, the ruddy orange has now changed to a brighter shade. Pretty, like the sunset. There's a rising heat in your chest and the flames rise with the brush painting your world in different, brighter hues as he continues.

He traces a finger down your too-prominent ribs then kisses a spot under them a bit, and licks kind of grossly down the line of your pelvis to your buckle, which he fiddles with enough so that he can get to your zipper, but he doesn't even friggin' take it off all the way. Whatever.

Murdoc laps ungracefully in one fast motion up the very head of your dick through your boxers and you gasp in surprise. You watch with wide eyes as he starts to move down, almost in slow motion, to suckle at the very tip with his tongue.

"Mmm...!" You grip the hips of his shirt with your fingers as he works on it a bit more. You're still watching him, but you lie your head back onto the armrest and close your eyes as he licks in small movements. Hmmm... he's so warm. It feels nice to have him pressed up on you. Your body heat has made a nice little spot for the two of you here. Huh... anyone could walk in and see you two, going at it, like animals in heat. Kinda adds to the thrill though, you think.

Something scrapes over-sensitive flesh, and you tense; your eyes open to find Murdoc lightly brushing your hard-on with his gnarly teeth.

"Ow..." He looks up at you and _grins_. He really likes attention, huh.

You pant out a little "Heh" and he moves down to suck more of you into his mouth. Your pre and his saliva has utterly soaked the fabric of your boxers and it's starting to stick to your skin in cold globs where he isn't tugging. You squeeze your eyes shut and he chuckles as he takes your dick out of your pants. He presses his lips to it, and in one motion, envelops your dick in his heat. You gasp again- then whine, softly, drawn out. His head bobs and your fingers clench around his shirt. He works on your length for quite a while, licking, and palming you, finding the bundles of nerves that make your spine hunch up and tighten. He stimulates you, winds you up with his tongue and rough, scraping presses. Your legs probably wind up wrapping around his back at one point, and your fingers clench his shirt as if your life depends on it. You're making all sorts of obscene sounds to his fiddling and playing, and your thighs are just burning in pleasure. Shit, you've never felt this good before.

You gasp out a warning when the orgasm that's been building up rises to a terrifying peak, but the bassist just hums nonchalantly to this.

"Mmaight'" He leans up to kiss at your neck and while doing so pumps your dick with a fist and jacks you right off in a final sort of motion. Trembling against him, every muscle tense, you splatter his chest in your come. He looks down, a bit disgusted, but seems to write it off pretty quickly. He brushes your bangs out of your way in a manner that you deem to be rather affectionate, but even now he doesn't look you in the eyes.

"You moan like a fuckin' porn star, I hope you know that, D." You flush.

"Oh." He sighs, still not looking at you. Then, he gets up, the springs creaking and makes his way out of the room haphazardly. Just before exiting, he lies a hand on the door frame, and without looking back around, he spits out the last thing you'll hear from him that night.

"Next time, let's not do this in plain sight. Anyone could'a seen." He sways out of sight and you grin shamelessly. You can't wait.


	2. Chapter 2

_Unfair Chapter 2_

(I didn't mention it last time, but this story takes place during the making of the Demon Days album. Also, thanks a lot to my reviewers on my first bit of this story. And... here is the requested second chapter- - -)

"_Uuuugh..._" You groan again as 2D whines and ducks his head into his raised legs, shoulders tense. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he laces his arms around his knees. Russel looks over as well, taking care not to disturb Noodle, who has fallen asleep craned onto the drummer. His arm is curled protectively around her waist.

"C'mon, D, it ain't that bad! Anyways, you like this stuff." 2D doesn't look up, but mumbles,

"It's not that I don't like it, I just don't like how they always get you in the end. Just 'cause I like it don't mean that I'm not freaked out by it." Russel clicks his mouth.

"Man, you need me to turn this thing off? Let's just watch somethin' else if you can't handle it." You scoff, and cross your legs along with your arms.

"Oh, Russ. Just leave it in, It's the oldest friggin' zombie movie out there, this is nothing." When the azure-haired idiot whines again pathetically, you bend over his hunched frame and slap the back of his head. "Just watch the damn movie. How can _this _be scary?" He peeks above his knees slowly and winces as the "scary zombie hands" break through his boarding on the windows and the main female role screams. 2D emits a choking sound and hides once again in the relative safety of his legs.

You tug the hair on the back of his head sharply ("Ow, stop it!") so that his head is pulled upwards and he has to look. Russel doesn't glance over this time, but grunts a warning. Shrugging, you let go, but 2D stays frozen how he is. His arms are drawn up and his knuckles are brushing the underside of his chin.

He looks terrified, though thrilled, yes. His large eyebrows are upturned and his eyes are squinted; they're barely open like he's trying to see as little as possible of the movie without really looking away. He's biting his lip and trembling a little bit. Without warning, he lets out this slow, horrified moan that exhilarates something in you.

Before you know it, you're very uncomfortable, very warm, and very, very turned on. He looks over to you, squirming.

"Erm..." you stutter, then look away. The fuck? Next to you, you can feel the singer fussing and moaning over the flick. Russel rolls his eyes. This is the first time you've ever seen a horror film with 2D, but perhaps this little drama fest is a regular occurrence. All of his gyrating movements and little noises are _stupendously_ annoying, but then again, holy_ shit_. You heat and flush, remembering what you and the singer had been up to not so long ago on this same couch.

And since said couch isn't really all that big, the four of you are absolutely sandwiched together on the stupid thing, especially with Russ here. You're pressed firmly to 2D's side, and on the other side Noodle's hip is jutting into your thigh. You gnaw your lip angrily. Russel laughs into his elbow.

"You too. Muds?" You turn and snarl out an angry "What...?!" He looks at you, his large frame trembling with laughter.

"It's not even scary. Man, grow some balls." _Oh._  
"Shut up, this movie is nothing! Leave me alone." He waves a large hand and turns back to the screen, still chuckling.

"Aw, man, look at that," he points. You look boredly to the screen. The last survivor has locked himself in the basement of the invaded house to find an undead family waiting for him. 2D yelps and presses to you; your every muscle tenses. The zombie kid is now getting the shit chopped out of her with a shovel blade.

You purr appreciatively, and you feel 2D's hand (which is clenching the shirt at your chest) thrum with the vibration of it. His left hand snakes behind your back and, with his weirdly long fingers, caresses the prominent ridges of your spine. You jump a little, but grin nevertheless. The little fuck never was scared, was he? There is absolutely no doubt about left about what he'd doing.

He shifts so that his mouth is right next to your ear and clamps down gently, then suckles for just a moment before leaving it. On screen, the now sleep-deprived lead holds off the massive horde of zombies attacking the downstairs door. 2D moans sorrowfully into your ear, and your shoulders tense automatically. He runs a cracked nail back down your spine.

But you've had it, you just can't deal with this anymore. Clearing your throat, you make to sit up, taking care not to show Russel your front.

"Be right back, gotta grab a beer." He grunts. As you get up, you rest your right hand on 2D's inner thigh and let it trail off as you rise, putting your every intention right on the table. You don't look at either of them as you leave the room.

You run a hand through your hair. Fuck, you're going to be pissed as hell if your little Tusspot can't work up the brainpower to think of a sufficient excuse to get away. You shove your hands in your pocket, mostly due to sexual frustration.

Ugh, it's really gross trying to walk half-mast. Satan, he better get over here and take care of you quick. You're still uncomfortably walking in silence down the dark, trashed hallway when a hand tugs your shirt from behind; you stumble.

Turning, (it's 2D, duh) standing there, panting and all shy. Sneering, you growl, loud and grating. And then, all at once, you have grabbed his hands, slammed him against the wall, holding his arms above his head. Your body is pressed full against his, your hips straddling his waist. You grind said hips as the two of you begin to mack on each other with a demonic passion. He seems to decide that your teeth aren't as sharp as they look and he allows you to brush them across his lips.

His chest is rising and falling in shuddering gasps, and it feels perfect against you. You release his hands but press against his wrist for a moment, letting him know you need him to keep them there. He whines and struggles a little, but it's probably for show so you shrug it off, not that you don't appreciate his needy little noises.

While pricking at his neck, you reach down and slide his skinny jeans down, along with his boxers. Tonight, you're impatient. The hard press in your pants is now pushed up directly between his thighs, under his erect dick and against his arse cheeks. His cheeks are now very, very flushed and his mouth is open, lips glistening and tongue moist.

You kiss his cheek, and thumb at his nipple while gyrating your hips slowly. 2D is shuddering and shaking in pleasure now; his knees are bent and look ready to give out. He nervously licks the gums where his front teeth are missing.

Your whole body is hot and horny, and it's fucking amazing. He grabs your cheeks and pulls you into another rough, raging kiss. He's moaning uncontrollably and it just helps your dick to press up more against his underside.

You huff and pull away from him, then swear. "F-fuck... stay... stay 'ere for a moment, I-I'll be right back. Ngh." He groans, and you slide away, 2D squeaking as your prominence slides back out his thighs. You basically sprint down the hall and thrum down the staircase to your trashed room, where you tear through your shit to find the lubricant.

It takes you a frustratingly long time to locate the damn thing, and by the time you've returned, panting, 2D is a red, flushed, dripping, shaking mess.

"I-I'm sorry, Murdoc. I just couldn't 'elp myself." You look down to find his tip, slick and dripping. The floor is spattered with liquid. You look up and grin. Pressing a calloused finger to its slit emits an interesting little noise from the singer. _Shit. _

You hold the tube with your thumb and index finger and wiggle it tantalizingly in front of him, grinning. His dark eyes give off the impression that they are dilating. "Oh, please..."

You kiss his thigh, then drip the liquid over your fingers. You do the same to your other hand, then drop the bottle. With your left hand, you slick the entrance and very inner rim of his ass with it. He shudders and clings to your shirt with trembling, still sticky fingers. You wipe the residue on his shirt, then using your other hand, you push a finger in.

His insides are surprisingly loose already, the pleasure opening him up for you. You press another inside of him, scissoring and pushing to open him up. It doesn't take much to make his arse nice and dripping, all while 2D hums and gasps as you brush over his prostate.

You look up at 2D, then down to your pants. He licks his lips, face burning pink, and reaches down to undo your belt and pants. Your unrestrained prick now springs forth and you think it throbs as he drips a massive amount of lubricant over it, letting it fall in huge globs over you. You shudder in pleasure as he kisses the head, coming away with a glossy transparent sheen over his lips, stringing away from your dick.

2D straightens again, a bit shakily, and you begin to press up against his bottom. He trembles, and whines as the invader pushes roughly. It's not as terrible getting in as you thought it might, but it still wears on your patience quite a bit; 2D's pained whimpers really stab at your heart quite annoyingly. His arms are looped underneath your armpits to squeeze at your shoulders.

You let out a huge breath as you finally manage to press inside of him fully, and 2D sighs contentedly. Taking a sharp inhale through your nose, you thrust up into him with a lude squelch. He yelps, and scratches down your back. Hissing in response to this, you let your tongue slide into his mouth as the two of you begin to kiss fiercely again.

He moans through your lips, high and dramatic, over and over as you stuff his arse and drive him against the wall with the vigor of your pushes, his insides squeezing you, and his weight bearing down on you. His legs hook around your thighs and you crush his body to the wall as you support his full weight, your prick driving deep into him in a heavier way.

The pressure is blooming in your stomach and the flames licking their way up your chest and shoulders, thighs and calves is otherworldly.

"F-fuck! Ah, there it is..." You grit your teeth and, damn, you make the stupidest noise (somewhere close to one being strangled roughly) as you experience quite an intense orgasm, your body shaking against his. He moans, ridiculously loud and wraps his arms around you as you ejaculate into him.

You huff, exhausted and worn out, but you want to make him come, so you wrap your hand around his length and stroke it. Surprisingly fast, he's screaming out his release and jizzes across his own chest. You hum; this is quite a sexy look for him. You squeeze out of him and stumble, then slide down the wall, your little Tuss collapsing after you.

He's in your lap, craned across you, chest still heaving and face red. He wipes his mouth with his forearm and smiles up at you sheepishly. You scowl, and look away. You hate how your heart feels right now.

"Is this a normal horror-film occurrence for you? Moan until someone pays attention to you? What, do horror flicks get you going, or something stupid?" 2D smiles rather wickedly.

"Yes, and last time it was with Russ." You look back to him, gaping.

"Wh-wot? Russ...?! When? Where?" His smile deepens.

"Just on the couch. You know which one." You rub your face, scowling. A headache is coming on.

"How many people have fucked you on that couch, anyways?" you ask, annoyed. He shrugs.

"Dunno!" He says brightly, "I don't think it really matters, though." He smiles serenely and presses his cheek to your chest. You sigh, long and hard.

"You, Faceache, are a straight-up, goddamned whore." He squirms, like he's uncomfortable, but doesn't say anything to disprove you.

Good boy.


End file.
